I'll Never Not Need You
by devsHaruhi-x
Summary: Lovino always says he hates Antonio, but does he really mean it? Rated for Lovi's potty mouth.


**Author's note**: I originally wrote this for a class where nobody knew who the hell Lovino, Antonio, Ludwig, and Feliciano are (and I wasn't calling them that anyway; I changed the names and genders), so I had to put descriptions of characters in and include things that were necessary for them to get an idea of some of the relations. This really annoyed me because all you APH fans out there have already seen/know these things, but...now I'm too lazy to take them out. Just bare with me at those times, m'kay?

This was one of my first APH fics ever, and I decided it was about time I posted it here. My devArt watchers have had it for much longer. XD

Also, there is a mention of Tomato Day, more commonly known as La Tomatina.

* * *

Romano glanced over his guardian's appearance, gaze shifting from his rich brown hair to his emerald eyes under soft lids, to his mocha skin and carefree expression. "No."

The grin dropped from Spain's face. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

"No," he repeated.

The older nation's eyes went wide and sad. "But I have to go, Lovi! Benito is starting to get restless. You aren't the only one under my rule, member?"

"No dammit! You don't have to go! I don't want you to."

Antonio turned. "Bye, Lovi. I'll see you when I get back."

"No!" The Italian shot forward and began pounding on the man's back. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" The teen curled his fingers into the taller male's shirt. "Damn Spaniard...I hate you, bastard."

Spain spun back around and titled Lovino's head up. He smiled softly and pressed his lips ever so gently to the younger teen's forehead. After this, Lovino could only stare in shock as the conquistador left. It took him a few moments to unfreeze. Once he did, he bolted for the door and stuck his head out.

"I still hate you," he called down the street.

The Spaniard simply gave a short wave in reply, not even facing the Italian.

~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~Years later~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~--~

"Romano! Hey, Romano~!" A young man sang, running into the house. He tripped and fell to the floor, face first.

"Idiot Feliciano," Lovino hissed.

He had grown up nicely. Okay, maybe "nicely" wasn't the word for it. Feliciano was a kind man (or at least he tried to be), but Lovino...He was about as sweet as wormwood dipped in acid. Even so, he helped his brother up from the floor.

"Alright, what do you want?" the brunet snapped. He glared at his brother's short, auburn hair with the ahoge bouncing at the side of his face, next to the stupid smile that stretched across his cheeks.

"It's just been a while since I've seen you~. I've been busy with training and being captured and stuff~"

"Idiot Feliciano," he repeated.

"Oh, I made a new friend. You know Germany? Everyone says he's so scary, but he's really not~" Italy turned his head towards the kitchen. "Ve, I'm hungry. I'm going to make some pasta~"

The older Italian sputtered. "Germany!? What the hell are you doing with a potato-bastard like him!?"

The younger simply walked into the kitchen and began checking cabinets. "Ve, I met him in a forest. He's really nice when get to know him~. And scary, but he's nice to me. Ve, don't you have any flour in the house~? I haven't had pasta in days~. Do you have any flour~?"

"How the hell can you be thinking about food!? You must be out of your fucking mind."

"Ve~ I'm really hungry, Lovino~. I want some pasta~. You always keep stuff for pasta in the house~. Where's the flour~?"

He sighed. "Third cabinet to the left."

"Ve~ Thanks, Romano. Ludwig never lets me eat pasta. I don't know why. Pasta is delicious~!"

Lovino ran a hand through his hair. "Every time you come home, it's 'pasta' this and 'pasta' that. Do you ever talk about anything else, dammit!?" Veneciano opened his mouth to speak, but his brother cut him off with, "Other than your fucking annoying new interest in the potato-bastard Germany."

The northern half of the country closed his mouth and thought it over. "Nope~!"

The southern half growled. "Grandpa Rome liked Feliciano better than me, stupid Antonio preferred Benito, and now I'm losing my brother's favor to food and a German idiot."

"Ludwig isn't an idiot. He's smart and strong and can tie knots and he protects me when I get picked on and he's really, really nice~!" He hummed as he started boiling water.

"I don't ever get compliments like that from you!" Lovino's face twisted in jealousy and anger. "What the hell!?"

"Ve, hold on, I can think of something. Lovino is...Lovino is...Well, you are...Um..." Feliciano looked around for something to help him

South Italy became more distressed and mad with each passing second, and when a minute had passed without his brother thinking of anything, he stormed out of the house. "I hate you!" he screamed, voice getting high enough to crack.

He stomped off and didn't stop until he reached a bridge. Romano leaned against the railing of the bridge and sighed. He jolted up a moment later when someone wrapped their arms around his chest.

"It's so good to see you, Lovi."

Lovino rotated on his heel and shoved the person away. "What the hell do you want, bastard?"

Spain blinked twice, shock in his wide eyes. The fact that he had been pushed away still hadn't registered in his head. "...No hug, then?"

Romano growled. "Hell no! I moved out of your house years ago, and you expect a fucking _hug_!?"

The older nation blinked again. "Sí. Generally, people hug when they see a close friend or relative that they haven't seen in a while. Besides, you were an adult and didn't need me anymore."

"...Shut up."

Antonio was taken aback. "What? What did I say?" He placed a hand on the Italian's shoulder. "I've known you since we were little children, Lovi, but I can honestly say there are many times when I don't understand you."

"Of course you don't understand me! You've got such a thick skull! Stupid Spaniard. I hate you!" Lovino puffed out his cheeks and turned his back towards his old guardian.

"Why do you always say that?" the brunet asked, voice cracking.

Romano's expression softened to one of worry as he turned back around. "Antonio, I—"

Antonio ran off, face buried in his sleeve.

Anger returned to the younger man's face. "Stupid Spaniard!"

* * *

Lovino hated him with a passion. No, not hate. Loathing. He _loathed_ Ludwig. He loathed his blue eyes and blond, slicked back hair. He loathed how the potato blushed when Veneciano hugged him. He loathed how he came running whenever the younger Italian called for help, even if he only called because of a tiny cut. Romano loathed the way he wrapped his arms around his brother while they watched TV.

"Feliciano, could you come into the kitchen for a moment?" he hissed.

Concern crossed subtly across Germany's face at the sound of South Italy's tone, but he released the other Italy and let him get up. He knew that if he was needed, he would be just one room over and could run in at a moment's notice. Feliciano stood and shuffled into the kitchen.

"What the hell were you thinking, bringing that macho-potato here?"

"Ve~ Isn't he a nice friend? It was so nice of him to let me cook pasta for once, don't you think~?"

"Answer my question, dammit!"

"I did~! Germany is a nice friend~. That's why I brought him~."

"Friend!? That's what you think? God, I swear you are the most oblivious person on the face of the Earth." Lovino blushed as the one person he thought could possibly be more clueless came to mind: Spain. He shook the thought from his head.

A thoughtful expression came over the auburn-haired male's face. "He did seem kind of grumpy about the cat thing...Maybe I should make him pasta~!"

Romano rubbed his temples. "You really are an idiot, you know!"

Ludwig burst into the room. "I heard yelling. Is everything okay?"

Italy flung himself into Germany's arms. "Wah! Ludwig! I'm sorry, I don't mean to be such a nuisance! Don't hate me! Wah!"

His cheeks flushed a light pink. "I don't hate you, okay?"

"Really?" Veneciano sniffled, looking up at him with tears in his eyes.

The German general nodded, still blushing.

"Yahoo!" He leapt with joy.

"...He recovers fast," Ludwig noted.

Lovino just glared at him. "...Potato-bastard."

"I'm going to make pasta~!" Feliciano skipped towards the stove and started taking out everything he needed. "Ve..."

"Too much pasta can be bad for you," the blond warned. "Make something else for once."

"Ve, that's ridiculous. Pasta is wonderful~!"

Germany sighed as the younger Italian spilled flour all over the counter. He retrieved a sponge and started cleaning up the mess." Lovino stood to the side, pouting.

'_I remember when Antonio used to cook for me_...' He shook the thought from his head. "Damn, why am I thinking of that bastard at a time like this?"

* * *

Lovino couldn't sleep that night. He was sure Feliciano was sound asleep, snuggled up in the potato-bastard's embrace. Or that at least they were probably in the same bed.

"He's such a man-ho," he growled to himself. South Italy rolled onto his side. "I don't need to share a bed with anyone. Stupid Feliciano is just a ho. I'm not lonely. This doesn't feel empty or terrible at all. I don't wish one bit that I had someone to hug me and keep me warm. Damn brother of mine...He would sleep with anyone." He rolled back onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "But why did it have to be that stupid macho-potato. Damn it."

He closed his eyes and tried to force himself to go to sleep. As he started to drift off, a small voice entered his head.

"_These bright red ones over here are the best, Lovi_."

Romano's eyes snapped open. He ground his teeth together. "Damn it, why am I thinking about _then_?"

The voice belonged to a young Spain, showing an even younger South Italy around a tomato garden. Tomatoes were one thing Lovino couldn't remember _not_ loving. Antonio was quite fond of the red fruit, too. The Italian remembered that they once went to the Tomato Day celebration. By the end of the day, they were both covered in tomato paste. And despite the grumpy aura the younger tried to keep around himself normally, he had found himself laughing.

"Damn it, Antonio...You said when I grew up I didn't need you anymore, and I know I said the same thing when I gained my independence, but...That's bullshit. We've spent so much time together, I don't think there will ever be a time when I _won't_ need you."

* * *

PLEASE review. Please. Critiques encouraged!


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